your heart has hardened
too long in the cold
pounded against rock
it sheds splinters of ice
you use to open your veins
you puncture your body
with gold spikes, nipples
lip, nose, ears, the soft
flesh of your belly
you open yourself
a universe spills out
a spiral of mirrors
crucibles, cauldrons
poems and pictures
too long in the cold
you are large
you hold it all
the boy in the forest
wandering alone
wondering, lost
he gazes up at the tall trees
he does not answer
he does not speak
you hold him, too
offered fire
you choose stone
the mirror is cracked
clouded, crazed
all that’s left
is his reflection
--
sharon brogan
http://www.sbpoet.com
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